


Congratulations, Mr President

by fraufi666



Series: The Morrison Saga [2]
Category: Political RPF - Australian 20th-21st c., Political RPF - US 21st c.
Genre: Alternate Universe - Politics, Authority Figures, Coal - Freeform, Dom/sub, Dominance, Drama, Handcuffs, M/M, One Shot, Political Alliances, Politics, Power Play, References to climate change, References to mining, Sex Toys, Submission, verbal humiliation kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 04:15:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29396088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fraufi666/pseuds/fraufi666
Summary: From having such a close partnership with Donald Trump, Scott Morrison is reluctant to wish a warm congratulations to the new man in charge. Joe Biden could not be any more different to his predecessor and to Morrison, he is nothing more than an idealistic, weak socialist. But there is a lot more to the Democrat than what the Prime Minister thinks.
Relationships: Scott Morrison/Donald Trump, Scott Morrison/Joe Biden
Series: The Morrison Saga [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2159421
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	Congratulations, Mr President

**Author's Note:**

> This story is an AU. Although I have used real people and political figures this is entirely a work of fiction. All romantic encounters, events and insinuations are from my imagination. I mean no disrespect to any of the people depicted. I am also in no way politically biased.

He was dreading this day, but as Prime Minister of Australia, Scott Morrison could not avoid it. He began to ascend the steps to the White House, heart heavy. Upon first glance, everything felt so different. While it was still too early for the new President to redecorate, Morrison knew that nothing would ever be the same again.

For a moment, he wished Jenny was by his side. But she had to look after the children and it was too last minute to hire a sitter. But as he looked up the smiling guards, who were all briefed on his visit, he knew that this meeting was necessary. Taking a deep breath, he finally stepped foot inside.

It felt like only yesterday when he had entered this very building. He remembered Donald Trump’s face staring at him as he gave him the birthday present that he was not expecting. It was like the colour of a sunset, beautiful and commanding attention.

At first, Trump gazed down at the present in disappointment, tossing the expensive watch to the side as if it meant nothing to him. But later on, when he opened up the briefcase in the Oval Office, Trump no longer looked down on the Australian Prime Minister ever again.

His foot stepped on a party streamer that the cleaner missed from the night before. But the texture merely reminded him of the rose petals that he stepped on when he visited Trump once more. He followed the rose petals all the way up to the bedroom. The king-sized bed with the golden curtains beckoned him as much as the body of the tangerine-streaked president. The greasy smell of McDonalds wafted in the air and on one side of the bed there was a generous gourmet of hamburgers, fries and drinks.

_“I knew you would come.” Trump said in satisfaction. Even with his body partially covered by the blanket, Morrison could see the shape of his erection, begging to be satisfied._

_“Of course I would.” The Australian responded slyly, sitting down on the side of the bed. He picked up one of the fries, moving it towards the President’s open mouth. Trump devoured the chip instantly. “You clearly enjoy being my bitch.”_

Morrison’s thoughts were interrupted by a shout of delight.

“Good morning, Prime Minister.” Joe Biden called out.

Morrison blinked rapidly, as if this would eliminate his memory. “Good morning, Mr President. Well done for your win.”

Biden stared blankly at the Prime Minister, his expression betraying some disappointment. It was obvious that Morrison had not given him the hearty congratulations that he was expecting. But he smiled, placing a hand on Morrison’s back. “Come this way. We have much to talk about as our nations are great partners.”

It all felt wrong, walking up those stairs and into the Oval Office without Trump. Even though Morrison and Trump had their differences, they at least came to some compromise. It was doubtful that this Democrat would be so easy to sway. He hated the whiteness of Biden’s hair, a man who was not ashamed to hide his age, nor the lines on his worn complexion. Trump’s fake tan and toupee at least gave him some comfort and reassurance, for this was a man who was not ashamed to spend a bit of extra money to make himself look good. Biden was merely a martyr…choosing to make himself look downtrodden and old just to win votes from the poor. It was quite pathetic, really. But then again, most Democrats often were.

To make matters worse, Biden continued to smile as he sat down in the Oval Office. The flash of the pearly whites was enough to make his skin crawl.

“So, Scotty…” The grin was back again “Can I call you that?”

“Prime Minister would do, thanks.” Morrison replied stiffly.

“My apologies.” Biden replied in some surprise, “Prime Minister…there are some things we need to discuss.” He glanced down at some of the notes on his desk, “Now to my understanding, you and my predecessor were quite close and agreed on a great deal of topics…China, climate change…”

Morrison could feel himself fall asleep. If he was going to be lectured about things he already knew, he would have just stayed at The Lodge. But Biden continued to talk, undeterred by the other man’s lack of enthusiasm.

“If you don’t mind me being frank here…there are a few things that really need changing.” The blue eyes seemed to penetrate into Morrison’s gaze and he knew that there was no way he could leave this discussion. The normally jovial American had become quite serious. “Let’s start with climate change.”

“Oh, our Australian policy has been working very well.” Morrison said dismissively, hoping he could leave. “We plan to lower emissions by 2030.”

Biden frowned, his eyes narrowing. “Now I’m not really sure if that’s good enough, Prime Minister.”

Morrison felt his heart skip a beat as he heard the sternness of the President’s voice. “I beg your pardon?” He asked, unsure as to whether he had misheard him.

A grin flashed back at him, although this time it looked more sinister underneath the blazing blue orbs. “You heard me, Prime Minister. My administration plan to completely undo the mess that my predecessor has left us and if you’re giving us half-hearted goals…why, we can’t exactly hit our climate change goals either.”

Morrison chuckled, trying to hide his nervousness. Usually the best way to get out of such a sticky discussion was to dismiss it all as a joke. That was what Biden was to him anyway. “What do you suggest, Mr President? That we completely give up on civilisation and return to the Stone Age? Progress is inevitable, and having a hippy way of life won’t exactly help all those businesses out there.”

Biden laughed in response. He pointed a shaky finger at Morrison, his head tilted to the side, trying to catch his breath. “Man, you are good. Just like a cookie-cutter politician of the right: always prioritising the rich businessman over the average Joe. Well, I’m sorry, but as you said, progress is inevitable. You’ll need to adapt and change. Getting rid of coal energy for a start, would be really handy.”

As soon as he mentioned coal, Morrison’s fists clenched below the table. He could feel a rush of adrenalin, for this was the moment he had been prepared for. Although it was four years ago when he had brought a lump of coal into Parliament, he had not given up on the fight for coal energy.* Morrison smirked, drawing out a lump of coal from the pocket of his jacket.

He brought the lump closer to Biden. The other man’s eyes widened, backing away in disgust.

“What are you afraid of, Joe?” Morrison asked cheekily, his dark eyes peering at Biden’s nervous expression. “It’s coal. It’s harmless and useful for the Australian economy.”

He smirked. The President looked so pathetic, sitting in his chair, too scared to even inspect a lump of coal closely. Morrison grabbed hold of one of the man’s wrists, prizing open his fingers. He shoved the coal into the open palm directly.

Brow furrowed, Biden gazed at the coal, gingerly inspecting it with his fingers as if it were hot to touch.

“You see? Coal’s not going to hurt you.” Morrison replied. He felt so smug, having proven that awful Democrat that he was right. Perhaps winning over Biden to his politics was going to be just as easy as swaying Trump. “Coal is the future. Renewable energy sources are just going to cost money that we simply don’t have. Trump and I had a plan that worked out well for our partnership. Maybe stick to your predecessor’s policies if you want a solid partnership with us.”

Suddenly, something snapped.

“Will you shut up, man?!” Biden shouted, dropping the lump of coal onto the floor. The lump broke into two, black powder sweeping across the presidential seal on the carpet. Morrison’s eyes widened and he fell to his knees in an instant, scrambling to save what was left of his precious lump of coal. Even though it was not something he carried with him frequently, he had it for four years. It had witnessed Turnbull’s demise and Morrison’s unlikely rise to power.

And just like that, it was hopelessly broken, just like any sort of future partnership with the major world power.

“What have you done?!” Morrison cried, as if someone had broken an irreplaceable family heirloom.

Even as he tried to attach the pieces together, it was no use. The lump was irreparably destroyed. A lump rose in his throat and he dropped the fragments before clambering onto Biden’s desk, his coal-stained hands around the other man’s neck. Choking, Biden managed to grab hold of the spectacles off the Prime Minister’s nose.

His vision blurred, Morrison had released Biden’s neck, blindly reaching out to snatch the glasses off the President.

“Give it back!” He cried, “I will _not_ allow you to bully the Australian nation!”

“We democrats have sat on our hands for far too long, Prime Minister. _Far too long_!” Biden shouted, holding the glasses away from Morrison’s grasp. The Australian made a few desperate grabs in the air, but to no avail. Biden then turned to the Oval Office desk, to which he pulled out a briefcase from underneath.

He smirked at Morrison, placing the briefcase onto the table. “You think you know _so_ much about coal…but have you forgotten that I was born in a mining town?” 

Morrison squinted, wondering what the relevance of this point was.

Biden carried on, slowly unlatching the case “I was born in Scranton…lovely place. They call it the Coal Capital back in Philly. Imagine all those muscular, tall men, their skin blackened with coal, their bodies so built from working in the mines day in and day out. These men, these hard-working Americans did their toil to provide for their families and for the nation. I vowed from a young age that I would help these workers…rather than prioritising the interests of overweight men in a suit.” He turned an accusative gaze at Morrison who frowned in response.

“Save your socialist quibbles for your voters.” Morrison replied dismissively. “As a man who claims to care about these coal workers, you should then understand the importance of coal power.” Nothing in what Biden said made any sense. At least with Trump he spoke so plainly and simply that there was no confusion. Oh, how he longed for the former president to return!

Biden smirked, and to Morrison’s surprise, replaced his glasses back on his nose ever so gently. The blue eyes were blazing with excitement and he went back to the case, opening it up finally and turning it around to show Morrison its contents.

Morrison’s felt his jaw slacken as he gazed inside the briefcase in shock. He recognised these toys from his own briefcase, but some looked even more brutal than the ones he had. Vibrators and dildos were twice the size of the ones he had, with handcuffs that had spikes on the ends of them. If he looked closely, he would see a wicked-looking ca _t_ o' nine tails, its leather tips glinting in the darkness of the briefcas _e._ Biden reached in to take out what appeared to be a jackhammer with a dildo connected to the end. “How much do you _really_ care about coal, Prime Minister?” He challenged. 

“More than you ever could, Joe.” Morrison replied darkly, his dark eyes latched on the president, “I doubt you even know how to use one of those things.” It was amusing to picture such an old man trying to use something so explicit. At least Trump knew how these things worked.

“Oh yeah?” Biden strode over to Morrison, his face so close to the Australian’s that their noses were almost touching. “I think it’s about time you get to know Uncle Joe properly.”

He walked behind Morrison, who tried to turn around, but the President’s hands clasped him on the back of his arms. Biden was surprisingly strong for someone who appeared so frail. Morrison could feel the other man’s breath against his shoulders as he leaned in, his nose brushing against the back of his neck. “I doubt you could last a day in the coal mines, Scotty…but who knows…there might be some muscle under that ridiculously expensive suit of yours.” One of his hands traced down his back, clasping his backside. Morrison stiffened.

“Well…you do have a sizeable ass. I guess we can make do with that.”

“I took down your predecessor.” Morrison pointed out, trying to sound more confident than he actually felt, “What makes you think you can take me down?”

He winced as he felt a hand slap against his backside. There was a chuckling behind him, but the tone of his voice became grimmer. “This is _my_ office, Scotty. You cannot give orders here.”

“Yeah, an office _you_ stole.” Morrison snapped back, spinning around to face the President. It unsettled him that this Democrat was acting like he owned the whole place. Typical leftist…crying when they couldn’t get their way, and then gloating like no tomorrow when they did.

Biden laughed again, the sound setting Morrison’s teeth on edge. “Oh please, we won fair and square. Maybe your _friend_ shouldn’t have discouraged his supporters from sending mail-in ballots.” There was so much disdain in the way he uttered the word “friend”, almost as if Trump were a beetle that had to be squashed. 

He reached up to grab hold of the Australian’s jaw. “You may be everything I hate about the right, but diamonds can always be drilled out of coal.”

“I’d like to see you try.” Morrison chuckled, “You old socialist…”

Immediately he felt his chest hit the oak of the table. He cried out in pain, though he was more shocked at the sheer strength of the other man. Two hands gripped his shoulders and Biden’s nose was tracing against his balding head. “Oh, Scotty…you have so much to learn. But first, why don’t we just end this foreplay by you wishing me a hearty congratulations.”

“Never!” Morrison spat, struggling to move out of his binds. “I don’t congratulate cheaters.”

“Is that so?” The American asked, leaning close to his ear, “Because you seemed to give Trump more than a simple congratulations…I heard _all_ about that expensive Rolex. How many hard-working Australians do you think paid for that?”

Morrison laughed. It was jealousy, plain and simple. The Democrat could not care less about the Australian people. If anything he seemed to only be interested in trying to exert his power due to not having had the same kind of relationship with the Prime Minister. He tried to stop tears from coming out of his eyes as he chuckled, his chin pressed against the desk. But he knew, deep in his heart, that nothing could replace his loyalty for Trump.

He felt the older man’s hands trace against his belt, unbuckling it expertly, before yanking the trousers off down to his knees. Morrison smirked. All that was going to happen was that the American was going to make a fool of himself. He did not flinch as Biden took out a pair of handcuffs, binding his hands behind his back.

That is, until he heard a low hum behind him.

The muscles in his body grew tenser as the humming drew closer. Beads of sweat dripped down his head, much to his own annoyance. He could not, would not allow himself to look like a coward to the Democrats. Morrison’s hands trembled in their shackles.

Suddenly, he felt a series of vibrations against his prostate. Morrison let out a groan, startled that his placid façade had been shattered. He could feel Biden’s lips against his ear.

“You like that, do you?” The American asked, his voice sickly sweet.

Morrison chuckled, trying to ignore the pleasure that was sweeping beneath him. “You…ah…you don’t know what you’re talking about.” He denied hopelessly, as if trying to avoid a journalist’s question asked during press conferences. It was so stifling hot in the room now that he wanted to tear off his suit, but that would merely give Biden more of an incentive to carry on. Desperately, his wrists tried to pull free from the cuffs to loosen his buttons, but it was no use.

His other hand still holding onto the device, Biden’s free hand reached up to undo a couple of his shirt buttons. His hand slipped into the opening, tugging playfully at the Prime Minister’s sparse chest hairs. Morrison jolted slightly.

“You’re nothing like those miners at Scranton.” Biden criticised, “But Trump really must have seen something in you.”

“You’re not exactly a Bondi surfer yourself, Joe.” Morrison snapped back, clearly insulted by the other man’s comment.

He gasped as he felt the dildo enter into him. The Democrat was not as soft with him as he had expected. A mixture of pleasure and pain caused the hairs on the back of his neck to stand up.

“Say it again.” Biden dared.

Morrison forced himself to grin, struggling to stop himself from trembling, “You’re just an old socialist who knows nothing about running the economy.”

Biden gave him a few more thrusts, the sensation causing him to harden. As much as he hated to admit it, he enjoyed the way this frail man seemed to have so much control over him. This dominant side of the President was strangely alluring.

“Say it again.” Biden repeated. Morrison closed his eyes as he felt a series of hard kisses against his neck.

“A c-communist…” Morrison moaned, as he felt another thrust, “With empty promises…”

“You’ll have to do better than that,” Biden growled. To Morrison’s disappointment, he could feel the device moving away from him. He needed more. Just one more thrust to help him to come. It had been ages since he had been able to experience pleasure and his body hungered for more. 

“You will _never_ measure up to Donald Trump.” Morrison continued, “He made America Great Again and you want to team up with China and make the free world a dystopia.”

Biden continued to kiss down his neck. Blue bruises began to form. But Morrison did not care. It felt like the greatest honour to be marked by the most powerful man of the free world.

“C-congratulations, Mr President!” Morrison blubbered as Biden continued to penetrate him. Even though he hated this man with every inch of his being, he did not want this to ever end. He trembled as he finally came, the Presidential Seal on the carpet slightly tainted.

To his relief, Biden finally unlocked and removed the cuffs. Hands free, Morrison put his trousers back on, his wrists aching slightly. His heart was still racing as he realised what he had actually said in the throes of passion.

“I’ll get the cleaners to sort out that mess.” Biden replied nonchalantly, “It can’t be any worse than the mess Trump already left behind here.

Morrison nodded sheepishly. He was about to turn to leave the room, but noticed a slight bulge in the President’s pants.

Biden’s eyes followed his gaze and smirked. He had won, and the thought excited him to no end.

“I know we have a lot to disagree on, but I’m sure given our recent negotiation, there is plenty of room for compromise.” The piercing blue eyes locked onto his, and for a moment Morrison wanted to re-experience everything all over again.

But he turned away, trying to control his aching desires. He could not give the Biden any more satisfaction than he already had.

“Yes…Mr President…” Morrison winced quietly, limping towards the door. He was not going to underestimate this older man ever again.

It was only when he was outside of the White House that he remembered standing on the veranda with Trump on what would be one of his last nights at the White House.

_“Whatever you do,” Trump cautioned, his small hand in Morrison’s, as the last rays of the sunset illuminated his tangerine complexion “Don’t ever give in to the Democrats.”_

_“I won’t, I promise.” Morrison replied, before giving him the last kiss they would ever experience while Trump was in power. It was a bittersweet moment for these two leaders, as facing the world stage was going to be so much harder. He knew that Trump was not ready to leave, and he was not prepared for him to leave either._

Upon remembering that final memory, Morrison’s face turned ashen. Even though he had never thought it would be possible, he had broken his promise. Despite priding himself on being a conservative, he had surrendered to a member of the Left, thinking that this would not affect him as much as it did.

Yet, against his expectations, Biden had somehow managed to get under his skin and destroy his loyalty for the man he loved. In future, he could not allow a repeat of the events from a few minutes ago.  
  
  
But now, nothing was ever going to be the same again.

**Author's Note:**

> *Footnotes for explanations:
> 
> “Although it was four years ago when he had brought a lump of coal into Parliament, he had not given up on the fight for coal energy.”: This was actually based on a true event where Scott Morrison had brought coal into Question Time while he was Treasurer under the Turnbull government. He taunted members of the house with the coal, saying something along the lines of “This is coal. Don’t be afraid, don’t be scared.” Don’t believe me? Read it in the link below!  
> https://www.theguardian.com/australia-news/2017/feb/09/scott-morrison-brings-coal-to-question-time-what-fresh-idiocy-is-this


End file.
